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Animatron Instincts
"That's it? That's all you got for me?" The wheel-footed speed demon balances on his wheels as he chats it up with a couple of random civilians that seem to be on the wrong side of every law that has ever been created. CHEETOR, that's what they call him anyway, doesn't seem to be too impressed with the minimal selection that is being offered to him. "How old are these things anyway? When you mechs said you had some heavy artillery, I wasn't thinkin' you was talkin' antiques!" Cheetor pushes off with his wheels, rolling over to the object in question. "The smelt I'm gonna' do with a catapult?" The mechs look at each other and then back to Cheetor. Shrug. "Buying weapons now? How very unbecoming of you, my Prince." A smooth, sultry voice laced with an alluring darkness calls out just before Scorn herself steps from the shadows, her hands folded neatly at her back and an easy, yet unnerving smile upon her lips. Following at her back are her guards Rend and Gore, the two mechs overshadowing all those present. "You mechs would be wise to excuse yourself. I have business with this one." The queen speaks to the civilians present without looking at them, her intense golden optics remaining fixed upon Cheetor. There's an immediate whirl around on the wheels before Cheetor raises an optic ridge in the direction of the new addition to the conversation. Of course, considering that it is SCORN, those other mechs high-tail it out of there. They don't even worry about the ancient weapon that they brought to try and score some quick shanix with. They OUT! "That's His Royal Freshness to you." Cheetor backs up a bit, since Scorn has a couple of huge guards with her, but he's not too worried. He could skid circles around those idiots. And then some. "I don't recall you makin' an appointment. So maybe you better give a comm to my secretary. See if we can fit you in somewhere between Never and when Smelt Freezes Over." Scorn honestly can't help a soft chuckle of amusement from escaping her at Cheetor's reply, though Rend and Gore remain silent. "Just as I remember you, little prince. Never a fan of authority." Her laughter fades and she smirks, head shaking as she takes a step or two forward. "But the time has come that you'll have to put up with it, for you see I come at the request of Emperor Victory Leo. He wishes your safe return to Animatron and I took it upon myself to do just that." The mantis gives a pause and glances around the area before looking back. "But first, tell me. Why is it you've stayed so long on Cybertron? I realize the clamdown was in effect, but you could have easily said who you were and recieved a shuttle back to Animatron. ..Is it that you wish to stay here amongst these.. lowly mechs and femmes?" "Lady? I dunno what the scrap you're talkin' 'bout." Cheetor flashes a big grin as he starts looking around to make sure he's got some room to move. He's got a bad feeling about this conversation and the two huge insects that are with this mouthy femme are not helping matters. Not at all, they aren't. "Listen. If you want, I can talk to somebody 'bout gettin' ya' circuits checked or somethin'. I know a few mechs that could maybe, /maybe/, poke around in there and find out what's up. But it ain't gonna' be cheap." Yup, Cheetor is not giving up any identity secrets. He's suppsoed to be a lowly member of Hot Rod's Rebel Alliance and that's all he's going to be. Until the time comes for him to do what his destiny has ignited him to be. This is where Scorn's more pleasant nature begins to falter, her lips creasing into an unamused frown as optics narrow. "Don't give me that. It didn't work when your little friend Hot Rod lied to me and it won't work now. You may have made the blasphemous decision to change your altmode, but you still smell like a beastformer." Another step towards him, this one with more purpose, though she has yet to make a move to attack. "Cheetor, this is your chance to return with me. To go back home! We can escape this rediculous civil war and you can take your rightful place again in the kingdom. Why would you squander that?" "You been hittin' the vintage engex pretty hard, huh, Lady?" Cheetor swerves to keep the space between himself and the guards and Scorn as much as possible. He hasn't been still since he's been here and this is definitely another clear sign that he's probably exactly who he says he isn't. Not that he's confirmed or denied anything. "I ain't goin' nowhere with nobody. My place is right here. This is where I belong. Kickin' aft an' takin' names." Cheetor makes his optics glow just a bit for possible intimidation tactics. "So unless you wanna' make that list, I think you better take Dumb an' Dumber over here and get lost." Is that a threat? Oh how wrong Cheetor is to try and tell Scorn what to do. Fingers flex and golden optics flash just as bright as the femme rises to her full height and stares him down, her gaze piercing. "You would threaten me? A poor mistake on your part, prince.. I have graced the Emperor's court many a time, so you should damn well know who I am and what I can do. I have no qualms with dragging you back with me by force if that is what it takes." A bare hint of her teeth flash as hands ball loosely. "I /will not/ have all my efforts been in vain. You /will/ come back to Animatron with me and take the throne like a good like prince should. And don't think you can run away from your responsabilities forever, because I am not so easily disuaded." Somewhere in the middle of this speech that Scorn has been giving, Cheetor has taken to leaning against the wall of some random building. His arms are crossed over his chest and he doesn't seem to be effectively listening. Hell, there's even an annoyingly sarcastic snoring sound coming from the spotted speedster. He's moved into the ignoring stage of deny everything it would seem. Which is why he's not even trying to pay attention. There's some long moments where it may even seem that Cheetor is actually asleep. But then he's straightening up with incredible speed. "Nah. Think I'll pass!" Cheetor's up and on the move, becoming a yellow blur almost as fast as his mouth is. He's on the wall and speed-skating with carkourish ability as he makes a run for it. "Bugger off!" Okay, now he's seriously pissing her off. As a Queen, Scorn has learned to be patient.. But when it comes to blatent ignorance and disrespect, that's when she gets angry. "Why you little.. Hey!" To now one's surprise Cheetor makes a run for it, and boy can he run! Scorn may not be as speedy, but she has some serious reflexes and at least makes the effort. "Get back here, you disrespectful little glitch! I'm not finished with you! After him!" Scorn screeches furiously and makes a move to grab him as he zips by, both her guards trying to form a blockade as well to cut him off. "Oh scrap!" Cheetor tries to zig and zags right into Scorn's grip. He gets yanked right off his wheels and ends up closer to Scorn than he wants to be. Which is not a good thing. Although, he's not caught by the huge guards so maybe this is an even better position to be in. Cheetor figures he can take Scorn. But he's not sure about those two lunkheads. "Well, well. Aren't we little /old/ to be this handsy? Hmmm?" Cheetor's words are just to be a distraction as he gets his wheeled-feet back up under him and moves to try and backflip kick Scorn underneath her chin and also get himself out of this grip so that he can get the smelt outta' dodge! Aha, got him! Cheetor may have speed on his side, but Scorn has experience. "Old?? You fragging.. If I didn't need you alive I'd-- Agh!" His distraction works and his sick flip both pulls him from her grasp and leaves her stumbling back when his foot catches her under the chin. Already the two guards are in their altmodes and flying after Cheetor in vain, but they immediately swerve out of the way when Scorn wavespeaks an order while scrambling back to her feet in her own altmode now. If the prince doesn't watch out he'll find a foot covered in a horrid, sticky acid that she spits after him, the goo beginning to eat away at it should it land. Carkour is likely a good thing when it comes to trying to get away from a group of insects that want to capture him for some reason. Sadly, though, when there's acid spit involved and your feet are tires, there's a problem with this situation. The spit connects with enough of a landing to have Cheetor spinning out in mid-slide. He trips over his own flattening wheel and crashes to the ground, scraping and sliding his way away. Cheetor pops up onto one knee and narrows his optics at his foes. "Ugh. Gross. See, this is probably why you'll never actually get conjunxed. You should get that looked at. Seriously." Cheetor reaches onto his arm and yanks off three magnetized pieces of metal. He flings them all at the same time. They cut through the air, looking like sharpened metal claws, as each of them head in the direction of different insecticon. Those guards might find themselves getting shuriklaw'd. But Cheetor's hoping that Scorn feels it more than anyone. She's the one that just spit on him! Besides, he needs to buy some time to get the heck out of here. Faster than her guards, especially in her altmode, Scorn is already dashing ahead of them to get to Cheetor. But it's not always wise to be first, earning the femme a sharp projectile in her shoulder. It hurts far more than the ones that almost bounce off the tough hides of Rend and Gore, but she does her best to stifle her hiss of pain while turning head and ripping the claw out with her mantid teeth. "Going to take more than some little barbs to stop me, mech." She snarls and spits it out. "You're coming with me whether you like it or not!" Ignoring the open wound now pouring energon, the Insecticon hisses again and makes a leap for him while he's stationary, aiming to stab her bladed arms into his shoulders and pin him to the wall. That's not a good thing. Not at all. He can't really move with a busted wheel like that and so he just kind of braces for impact. He gets pinned right to the wall by the shoulders, feeling the pain and reacting to it with a pained grimace. He struggles for a moment, as if he's actually thinking he can get away at this point. But it doesn't look like that'll be happening. Not without some kind of assistance or something. "Kidnappin' a street mech? Primus, you really /are/ desperate." Cheetor can't stop himself from quipping. Maybe it also has to do with the fact that he's trying to keep her distracted while his own bladed arms are extended. He flicks his wrists to pull those blades from his arms and into his hands and from his newly pinned position, moves to try and stab Scorn right through her... does she have a thorax? He never was good at Cyberbiology. Scorn has Cheetor right where she wants him, but unfortunately that leaves her just as vulnerable. "Ghk!" Her entirety freezes when she feels his blades pierce her armored midsection and come out coated in energon on the other side. A heavy shudder and a grunt of effort are the only signs of the pain she struggles against, her insectoid face unable to express the hard grimace she so wants to emote. Instead, with a laboured vent she leans in closer to Cheetor, sinking his blades a inch or so deeper, and bears down on him with those intense optics. "Why..? Why are you doing this, Cheetor? /Tell me/. ..Animatron needs you, don't you understand? Tell me why you are so afraid of returning.." Cheetor winces as he makes short work of the vile queen that's trying to take him away or whatever it is that she's doing. He leans in to her as well, though, even as he retracts those blades to his arms so that he can prepare to activate his transformation sequence. "Jus' between you an' me, lady?" Cheetor lowers his voice so that he can utter a phrase that may only make sense to those that are of the Animatron ilk. "Cheetor? Maximize." The transformation sequence begins which causes many twists and shifts in his body, some of which could possibly snap those blades in his shoulders or force them out of his body. Whatever. Either way, the moment his body finishes turning into a hypercar, he makes a break for it. If that means he makes a hood ornament out of Scorn? Well, it won't be the first time he's had a bug on the windshield. Scorn listens intently as Cheetor leans in and nearly whispers to her, but optics fly wide the moment she hears that single word. A roar of pain escapes as her blade arms are twisted by his transforming body, Scorn quickly yanking them free and stumbling back as he shifts and zips off down the street. "Don't think you can run forever, Cheetor! I will hunt you down if it's the last thing I do, mark my works!" She yells after him, though makes no effort to give chase and even holds up a blade to halt her guards. "Let him go.. We know where he is now and I have a good idea of who he is affiliated with. Let him think he will hide, we will be back for him.." And with that she nods to them and takes off into the sky, Rend and Gore following quickly on her heels with a grunt of acknowledgement.